


Sun-washed

by Calyps0



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: F/M, Light Angst, One Shot, Romantic Fluff, reverse xs - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-11
Updated: 2019-07-11
Packaged: 2020-06-26 11:04:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 397
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19766872
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Calyps0/pseuds/Calyps0
Summary: I don't know. You clicked on it.





	Sun-washed

He should have caught her as she fell—should have been faster— _is_ the fastest. There should have been no other.

When he braces his fingers against the cradle of her skull, slides a hand beneath her to support her spine, she is so very still—a lake in the silence, a light turned inside-out.

The darkness rises up within him, the need to raze and rend. He tamps it down at the feel of the warmth of her skin, at the soft breaths puffing up from her rose lips.

Her heartbeat is faint but _there_ , slow as a march through purple veins, a message that, no, he has not failed, and _no,_ not everything is lost.

Her eyes flutter open like wind on moth-wings. They dust across the planes of her cheeks. He lets out a breath that is too sharp in its relief, near painful in its intensity. He feels too electric to be happy, too shaky to come undone.

_I could have rested there_ , she says, when he lifts his hand to her face, cups her cheek in his palm like a lily pad clutching stray droplets of water. _In the clouds,_ she sighs, _among pollen and flower-dust. I could have settled my weary collarbones upon mist and sunshine._

She breathes deeply and her eyes are swimming with untapped dreams. _What would it have been like, I wonder,_ she says idly, fingers tracing patterns into nowhere, _to make a home amidst rays of light, to sleep between two neighboring stars?_

He looks at her but doesn’t answer, doesn’t share her awe when she marvels at the unknown. He doesn’t wonder. Why would he need a star? A constellation already etches there, in the freckles of her face, dotting and darting across her features, little marks dipping over the ridge of her nose, under the dips of her shoulder blades. They signal no direction, they lead nowhere for a traveler, signifying only to him a resonant guiding _home._ He does not need to settle a pillow in a crater, hitch his blanket to a moon. He does not wish to feel what it would be like to wander navy galaxy and untrodden asteroid, does not care to feel the kiss of cold space on his skin.

He could sleep next to a star, he muses.

But they would not shine half as bright as her.

**Author's Note:**

> This is pretty short but I liked it so I thought I'd post. Maybe I'll come back to it one day. If you liked, please let me know!


End file.
